


The Art of Being Impartial

by AmunetMana



Series: Inter-Realm Relations and Negotiations [2]
Category: Norse Religion & Lore, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Taking a wild leap off the edge of canon, There is no canon here, and long-suffering Balder, and playful Loki, there are however shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 01:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1710788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmunetMana/pseuds/AmunetMana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Balder is chosen to accompany the Lady Sigyn on further negotiation talks with Jotunheim. Balder is dubious as to Sigyn's abrupt change in heart towards the secretive giants and her ability to continue working with them, but finds out in his own time that it's not so hard as he'd thought to let yourself be sucked in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Being Impartial

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heathergreyfeather](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heathergreyfeather/gifts).



> A sequel! Of sorts, haha. I've had this planned since the last chapter of Inter-Realm Relations, but only just yesterday finished it. Hope you enjoy~
> 
> Balder, Angrboda and Farbauti are once again for all intents and purposes my OCs. Fair warning if you expect them to resemble the Marvel characters~

“I’m not sure it’s entirely appropriate for you to continue coming to these talks,” Balder said doubtfully, wincing as the light of the Bifrost faded, and he was left shivering despite the thick layers of fur and armour he was bundled in. His companion, the elegant Sigyn, sent him a bemused look.

 

“Why on earth not?”

 

Balder sent her a strange look. “You’re in a relationship with a Prince of Jotunheim. Don’t you see any problems with that, alongside your continuation as ambassador of Asgard? Any at all?”

 

Sigyn was looking at him with wide-eyed innocence that Balder didn’t believe for a single moment. “No, can’t say I do,” she replied blithely, moving ahead of the Prince to pick her way through the snow and stones. Balder huffed; a childish noise but there was no one to hear, so he indulged. On better terms with Jotunheim or otherwise, it didn’t make a speck of difference to how unappealing the planet was in itself to visit. Sigyn had always hated it, Balder knew. He’d seen her face from the moment she’d been chosen as ambassador to the moment she’d left, fully devastated by the notion of spending just a few days on the frozen planet the Jotuns called home.

 

Yet, when she’d returned, it had been full of happiness, brimming laughter and nothing but praise for the Jotuns. It had taken plenty of insistent nagging (Sigyn’s words, not Balder’s) for her to reveal the truth of her happiness. Nagging, and catching a glimpse of Sigyn in the gardens days after her return with a tall man with a dark braid, and blue skin peeking out from the enveloping style of Asgardian clothing.

 

Prince Loki of Jotunheim, third born, unheard of by the other realms. Not for shame, Sigyn had explained to Balder, as they’d sat beneath the trees in the garden, the soft trickle of the water to the side of them peaceful, but for protection. Born so much smaller than his brothers, than most other frost giants, Laufey had been terrified for his safety and kept him hidden away for all his life up until that point. Not, Sigyn had told him, that that had deterred Loki much from exploring.

 

How anyone managed to explore in such a dismal place in even more dismal conditions of spatting snow, Balder didn’t know. It only cemented his belief that Sigyn’s dearest was insane. He doubted she’d disagree.

 

“How far are we from the castle?” he asked, drawing his cloak around himself as tightly as he was able. Sigyn squinted ahead, then looked down at the path,

 

“…A little way away, maybe another ten minutes – “

 

“Sigyn!” Balder glanced up, and peering through the snow, managed to see a figure charging towards them, blue skinned but oddly small. He wondered for a moment if it was the Prince that Sigyn so often spoke of, but as the figure drew nearer, he realised with a jolt that it was a woman. A woman who upon almost reaching them, turned her gaze away from Sigyn and towards Balder, and abruptly tripped over her own feet with a look of shock.

 

Balder took a startled step back himself, but Sigyn simply burst into giggles, stooping down to help the woman up.

 

“Angrboda, it is good to see you,” she greeted the Jotun – Angrboda – warmly. Angrboda did not respond, initially, her gaze entirely focused on Balder as soon as she had been pulled free from the snow. Flakes of the cool white substance still clung to her hair and eyelashes, and her cheeks had turned the richest, deepest blue Balder had ever seen on a frost giant. She continued to grip tightly to Sigyn’s arm as she stood, not letting go even when it was certain that she was once again on steady footing.

 

Balder cleared his throat, awkwardly, and took a step forward, making a short bow towards Angrboda. “It is…good to meet you, Angrboda,” he greeted her, a lilt of a question to her name. Sigyn nodded at him, confirming it with a grin. Angrboda herself simply looked slightly wider-eyed and terrified at him as he bowed, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly, until finally an embarrassed squeak emerged, and her cheeks grew impossibly darker, the colour spreading to her throat. Sigyn’s lips were pressed together, curving into a grin despite her admirable performance of holding the giggles back.

 

“Angrboda, this is Prince Balder. You know. The one I told you about?” Sigyn nudged her, and Angrboda finally forced her fingers to uncurl from Sigyn’s arm, straightening herself and brushing away the snow from her plain dress. There was something in the tone of Sigyn’s voice, in the way her lip quirked up, that made Balder’s mood sink. He knew what it meant when people talked about him with that look on their faces.

 

It meant, generally speaking, and in the words of one particularly forward barman from Asgard, that they wanted to bone him. He just, until this moment, hadn’t expected the sentiment to extend to Jotuns as well.

 

“Yes. Well. Nice to meet you. I’m going to…go…do a thing. Things. Work.” Angrboda turned dark blue again and turned to Sigyn, “The Prince ran off again. I need to find him.” And with that she fled back into the building. Balder watched her go with Sigyn, before the small brunette turned to him.

 

“I think she likes you,” she said with a teasing grin, and Balder had to suppress his groan. He was well used to people ‘liking’ him. Sick of it, was perhaps a better way to describe his feelings. “Well, I better find Loki,” Sigyn was saying, and Balder refocused on her. She gave him a smile, a faint crease of worry between her eyes, “Will you be ok from here? It’s just a straight line, you can’t really miss it…”

 

“You’re worse than mother,” Balder told her, his own lips quirking up. “I will be fine. Go find your Prince.”

 

Sigyn smiled at him gratefully before trotting off after Angrboda, not quite a run over the treacherous ice, but faster than she’d be able to manage with Balder alongside her. Running was always painful for him. Even walking, there was a limp to Balder’s steps, one that made the guards at the Palace gates look at him with what was probably concern when he finally arrived.

 

“Ambassador Sigyn came ahead of me?” It came out like a question, which pulled his lips into a frown. All the same, the guards seemed to accept his words and parted, the gates opening for him to pass through. Why oh why, Balder lamented, was the Bifrost site so far from the palace? It was a nightmare. He loitered inside the gates, trying to take the weight of his feet as best he could, when a tall Jotun approached him.

 

“I am Thrym, head of the Guard,” the Jotun introduced himself, fist over his heart in a manner strikingly similar to Asgard’s warriors. Except he only inclined his head, rather than bowing fully.

 

“I am Prince Balder, Odinson, of Asgard,” Balder greeted him, hesitantly placing his fist over his own metal-and-fabric covered chest. “It is an honour to be here on Jotunheim.”

 

Thrym dropped his hand and Balder followed suit. The Jotun gave him a faint smile, indicating for the Prince to follow him down the twisting hallways of the palace.

 

“Now Sigyn has joined the search, no doubt my Prince will be found shortly,” Thrym commented as they reached the negotiations chamber. “Good luck.”

 

And with those ominous words, Thrym left the wide-eyed Balder at the doorway to the chamber.

 

~

 

Sigyn had told Balder all about her experiences on the Jotun home world. In particular she’d spoken of the youngest and smallest Prince, who had taken her on wild chases, had provided her with treats and foods from her home when she’d grown hungry during meetings.

 

Judging by the barely suppressed giggles coming from Sigyn as she bit down on her lip, and the perfectly schooled expression of her Prince Loki sat next to her, it was no longer just sweets being exchanged under the table.

 

Balder pursed his lips together and tried to suppress his oncoming migraine. Frigga suspected his headaches and his nightmares were the result of an incomplete inheritance of her own powers of foresight. Balder suspected he was just surrounded by loud, _loud_ , frustrating idiots. He cleared his throat in the ridiculous couple’s direction, and Sigyn’s eyes quickly met his. She bit down on her lip, in response to Balder’s single, quirked eyebrow. Prince Loki’s gaze followed hers, and upon red eyes meeting blue, Loki’s lips curled into a minute smirk, and he winked.

 

A second silver eyebrow shot up to meet the first. Loki’s lips barely moved, but his eyes were dancing with mirth. The Prince inclined his head slowly, returning the pretence of his attention to his mother at last. When Balder returned his own eyes to Laufey and Fárbauti, and nearly jumped in his seat to see that whilst Laufey was still talking, apparently oblivious, the Queen Fárbauti had his eyes trained steadily on Loki. A faint shiver ran up Balder’s spine, and nothing to do with the cold. The Queen was perceptive then. What a good pair he made with Laufey.

 

Balder could not have been more pleased when the meeting finally ended. He did not envy Thor’s position as Crown Prince. He doubted Thor had much love for the role either; he was built wild and as unpredictable, as unrepeatable as the lighting and thunder he wielded. Sitting on a throne day in, day out would break Thor as nothing else could. Perhaps if he found a wife as skilled as Frigga, Balder mused as he poked the cold fish dish before him unenthusiastically, Asgard would have its first taste of a female ruler as Thor spent his days gallivanting, and his Queen ruling in his stead. Maybe it would be good for Asgard.

 

Balder was shaken from his musing, and from playing with his food until it was an unappetising mess on his plate, by the sight of the serving girl from before passing through the corridor outside the dining hall. He stood immediately, and everyone looked at him in bemusement. Whilst Loki’s gaze was nothing but amusement once again, Laufey’s held a reserved kind of concern, and Balder was reminded of his mother all at once.

 

“Umm,” Balder managed, before sitting again. “I apologise.” He didn’t blush, he never had. But even if it was only figuratively, his cheeks were flaming. He couldn’t have been more grateful when Laufey and Fárbauti both elected to ignore it and steer the conversation gracefully back to easier topics. Balder barely knew why he’d reacted like so at the sight of Angrboda. Perhaps it was because she looked so different, or perhaps, because unlike everything else…Sigyn hadn’t mentioned her. Whereas she’d clearly spoken to Angrboda about him.

 

For whatever reason, Balder’s interest was piqued. Maybe, he supposed, it was partly self-fulfilling. He was so rarely interested by anything, _especially_ one who literally fell over at the sight of his face.

 

Balder quickly gave up trying to understand the mechanics of his mind. That was definitely something he’d inherited from his mother; the two of them had been known to sit in a room together, and after moments of chatting, simply fall into silence as they each ticked over their own mind, oblivious to all else, but still content. It rumbled Odin and Thor who, for all Odin’s talks and pretence of being a thoughtful, reflective man, was like his son unable to sit still for long.

 

Diner ended soon enough, and as Sigyn had described from her other trips, the Monarchs bid them goodnight in the corridors, before they all headed their separate ways, Thrym appearing to take Balder to his room and Sigyn promptly vanishing with Loki. Thrym once again left Balder at the door, and Balder rested his hand against the cool surface. He felt like he hadn’t stopped working for a week, let alone a single day. He refused to acknowledge it for long, however. He didn’t want any more coddling than he already had to suffer.

 

“Are you warm enough?” Came a joking voice cutting through Balder’s thoughts, and Balder turned to see Loki standing behind him. He’d discarded his cloak and jewellery, although his hair was still pushed back and threaded with many glittering trinkets. Balder scowled at him, tugging the large, fur-lined cloak tighter around his shoulders.

 

“My mother worries,” he retorted, but immediately Loki’s face blossomed into unabashed understanding and acceptance. The ice prince stepped forward, patting Balder on the arm twice before gripping his forearm in a comforting gesture.

 

“I know that feeling,” Loki said wryly, and the look in his eyes made Balder think he’d just passed some kind of test or, even stranger, crossed some invisible barrier. “Tell me if you need anything whilst you’re here,” Loki told him as he pulled away, heading, Balder noticed, in the direction of Sigyn’s rooms and not his own, “I’ll make sure it gets to you.” There was a sudden flourish of hands, and before Balder knew it there was a loaf of bread being waved before his nose. He blinked and grabbed it on reflex. “Enjoy that. You’re terrible at pretending to like Jotun food,” Loki cackled at him, before setting off at a saunter down the corridor.

 

Balder stared after him, not quite a glare but not a smile. What Sigyn saw in him, Balder didn’t think he wanted to know.

 

~

 

Balder curled up under his cloak, only his feet poking out. Atop of that were several layers of blankets and furs; Even for such a huge bed it seemed like a lot, and Balder wondered if they’d amended the quantities of coverings after Sigyn’s first visit. If so, he had a deep appreciation for their attention to detail. He was disturbed just as his mind begun to sink into sleep, by a soft knocking on his door. Balder dragged himself from the thick furs, pulling on his boots before rewrapping his cloak tightly around his shoulders, teeth chattering and air blowing white between his teeth. He was surprised, upon opening the door, to find himself flooded with sudden warmth. Warmth, and the sight of Angrboda with a dancing pink flame beside her.

 

“Yes…?” Balder asked curiously, his eyes finally pulling away from the unexpected pink to look at Angrboda. He’d wanted to see her, but how had she…why… She frowned faintly at him,

 

“Loki said you wanted to see me…?” she phrased it as a question, but as Balder continued to stare at her blankly, she cursed under her breath, expression turning stony. The change was so absolute, so all-encompassing, Balder was mesmerised by it. “That bastard. Still, you might as well have the flame,” she guided it towards Balder with cupped fingers, “I can make my way back without, and you must be cold.”

 

 

“No, it’s ok, please come in,” Balder invited, choosing to divert his attention to the flame. Had Loki realised what he’d been looking at during dinner? It was all Balder could think of. He settled himself on the edge of the huge bed, pulling another fur around on top of his cloak. The flame was certainly warm, but Balder enjoyed, for lack of a much searched for better word, snuggling under the blankets. Angrboda settled onto the bed beside him, drawing up her legs to her chest. She looked lonely, Balder realised. Not sad. But lonely all the same.

 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, and Angrboda frowned faintly at him.

 

“It’s nothing,” she brushed off his query, “I’m fine. Well…maybe upset with Loki but that’s not new. That’s so old you should only worry if I’m _not_ angry with him.”

 

Balder’s lips quirked up at her answer, but he still didn’t believe her.

 

“What’s it like being the only Jotun to look like you do?”

 

It was a barbed question, but Balder only felt a little bad for asking it. He wanted to get to the bottom of Angrboda, and isolation by appearance was something he knew all too well. Indeed, Angrboda stiffened, her mouth becoming a hard line.

 

“…Awful,” she said eventually, her tone dull. “I’m a freak of nature, don’t you know? If I were only a runt it wouldn’t be so bad, but I…” she swallowed, and looked away, “I’m only half. I’m a default, defective, I…” a laugh escaped her lips, and she turned back to the pensive Balder, “I don’t know why I’m spilling my problems to a Prince of Asgard,” she said dryly, before sighing. “It must be nice to be beautiful,” Angrboda continued softly, her head tilting forward over her bent knees, hair falling forward to brush against her toes. “People love you at first sight.” She smiled at him tightly, “I don’t know what that’s like,” she told him. “People here have only ever looked with worry or disgust.”

 

Balder was silent, his face creasing from sympathy into anger. Slowly he reached down to his boots and carefully began to slide them off. Angrboda frowned at the movement,

 

“What are you doing? You’re going to be col- _oh_.”

 

She fell silent after that soft noise, as Balder’s feet were revealed, the flame that floated closer to keep them warm also doing a fine job of illuminating the scarring that covered both feet almost completely.

 

“I have always been…beautiful,” Balder told Angrboda, haltingly. “Everyone has always adored me. The stories go that even wild animals would not harm me, choosing to stop and stare rather than attack.” His thumb traced over the scars absently. It was an unconscious, but often repeated motion. “My older brothers wanted to know why I led such a charmed life. They were the kind to always be fighting, you know? There was never a time when they were nit bruised and scraped, and they couldn’t fathom why I wasn’t the same.” Balder took a breath, looking to Angrboda to see if he was irritating or boring her. To his surprise, her expression was rapt, her eyebrows creased as she sensed the oncoming tragedy to the tale.

 

“They went to mother, as children will, and asked her why I was never hurt, why I was so stared at. She told them – “ he let out a dry, humourless laugh, “she told them that she’d made all things promise not to hurt me. All people, all plants, all animals. Rocks, fires…everything in all the nine realms. And, being children…they believed her.”

 

Balder rubbed at his foot absently, parts of the skin deadened to how much pressure he was putting on them unknowingly, until a cool blue hand gripped his, pulling it away from the ruined skin. “What happened?” Angrboda asked softly. Balder smiled tightly, a cruel expression on his porcelain face, eyes like chips of glass.

 

“They tested mother’s words,” he told her, and realised abruptly it was the first time he had told anyone. “They were going to try…I don’t know exactly what…to hit me, to cut me perhaps? Tyr did have a knife he’d taken from the kitchens. But Thor, my eldest brother, has power over lightning. But as a child, what he didn’t have was control.” Balder indicated his feet, fingers curling into the furs to stop himself from rubbing at them yet again. “I was trying to escape, and in the confusion, he set off a bolt of lighting. The initial hit was bad enough, but then sparks flew, and…well, things escalated.” He wasn’t ready to talk about the full effects of that stray lightning bolt, and he doubted he ever would. “My brothers are still scared to touch me, Thor especially. I’ve become even more avoided.”

 

Balder’s eyes narrowed, and there was anger and spite in his gaze. “And yet I am still called beautiful. I am still lusted after, still stared at like a piece of expensive jewellery or a carved statue. I’m not real to anyone. Not until they see my feet. And even then, all that brings is pity. There was a woman, in court, who I…well, I was close to her. Was. Until she saw my feet, and told me, it was a shame. It was a shame, because if not for my feet, I’d be _perfect_. As though that was all that mattered, as though – as though without beauty, without _perfection -_ ” _I would be nothing._ Balder’s tone was growing harsher and harsher, his volume rising until abruptly, the ball of flame began to nudge against his cheek. It didn’t burn, but was more like a small pet, a pink ball of eagerness to please. Balder fell silent and, although he didn’t smile, he moved his hand to cup it gently.

 

Then, suddenly, there were lips against his.

 

He didn’t kiss back, but neither did he pull away from Angrboda. He simply let her rest against him, neither pushy nor demanding, until she deemed it time to pull back, after which she studied him carefully. The corners of her mouth flicked up, and she touched a finger to his cheek.

 

“Your feet make little difference to me,” she commented, a casual and off-hand remark as she slid from the bed and pattered towards the door on her bare feet. “If anything, I’m a little glad,” she continued, turning back to look at him as she pulled the door open, “Now you finally seem real.” With those words as her goodbye, she slipped out, leaving Balder alone in his rooms. The Prince of Asgard stared after her, more than a little bemused. He pulled the covers back around him, thankful for the little flame, despite its mocking colour. He was glad of the warmth. And, he admitted only when deep under the layers of fur and on the brink of sleep, glad of the company it had brought with it.

 

~

 

The final day came soon enough, Balder and the Monarchs of Jotunheim waiting patiently for Sigyn and Loki to emerge, which they finally did, once again flushed and with tousled hair. Despite their outrageous appearances leaving not question as to what they’d been doing, Loki made an exaggeratedly formal gesture of goodbye the Sigyn, kissing her primly on the back of her hand, bowing deeply. Sigyn laughed, finally pulling away to stand with Balder at the Bifrost sight. Balder looked at her in amusement.

 

“Is it a Jotun custom to be visited in the middle of the night whilst staying the night?” he asked abruptly, watching with barely concealed mirth as Sigyn’s flush deepened exponentially.

 

“Not…as far as I know?” she squeaked in response, and Balder had to turn his head away from her to hide his amusement.

 

“That’s probably a good thing,” he replied serenely, turning a little further to catch a glimpse of Angrboda one last time, as the rainbow bridge swirled into existence around them. “If it was, I doubt we’d be left with a single impartial advisor in all of Asgard.”


End file.
